


Unintended Affections

by Replica_of_Divinity



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Healing, Humanformers, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Replica_of_Divinity/pseuds/Replica_of_Divinity
Summary: Megatron was different...





	Unintended Affections

Max didn’t like showing skin, not only because he didn’t want other people to see his scars, but because _he_ didn’t want to see them either. He didn’t want to remember what had happened, he didn’t want to remember the man who’d made them.

But Megatron was different. Megatron felt no shame about what had happened to him, or what was left behind. He didn’t cower at the thought of his past, or those who hurt him; at least not anymore. That was why Rung had set up their first meeting. And it did help, it helped a lot, just not in ways initially intended.

Because Megatron was different. He had a temper certainly, but he had remarkable self-control, he never rose his voice around Max. While he could seem cool and distant, he could also be remarkably present and gentle; a good listener certainly, and he was always willing to give his point of view. He was blunt and sarcastic at times, and wasn’t afraid to tell people when they were out of line; his honesty was refreshing. And he had an incredible mind, intelligent and well spoken, good strategist, and an incredible writer. An incredible poet.

Megatron was different. And Max wasn’t sure when the accidental brushing against each other turned into seeking out the other’s hand in moments of doubt. When friendly reassurance and confidence boosting turned into gentle embraces and whispered encouragments.

He wasn’t sure when he started feeling less afraid to show skin.

It was a slow process, every night, he’d roll up his sleeves or lift his shirt or a pant leg and Megatron would kiss every scar he could find. When Max started to feel anxious they’d stop, and they’d cuddle and they wouldn’t discuss it again until the next night. And every night he’d show a little more, new scars would be kissed, the ones already found would be kissed again. All the while Megatron would whisper praise that Max felt wholly undeserving of, but he wanted to hear more so he never asked Megatron to stop.

“Beautiful.”

“Strong.”

“Kind.”

And in between Praises he would offer reassurance and check on Max’s mental state.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, you’re safe.”

“How do you feel?”

“Do you want to stop?”

And tonight…tonight Max managed to reveal his entire chest, his torso and arms completely bare, Megatron’s lips ghosting over the scarred and mottled skin. Max lay back on their bed watching as Megatron found every little nick or gash and kissed it with reverence.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered softly as he kissed a particularly nasty scar on Max’s collar bone, “Are you proud of you?” he asked as he lifted his head to look at Max.

Max looked up into Megatron’s face, handsome and kind but battle worn, his cheeks and lips bespeckled with scars, streaks of grey in his jet black hair. And he sat up and gently pushed so that Megatron was now the one laying down and then he began kissing _his_ scars.

In between gentle pecks he said, “I am proud of me, but are you proud of _you_?”

When they locked gazes again Megatron looked faintly confused, but smirked, “Is that a serious question?”

Max smiled and kissed him on the lips.

Yes, Megatron was different.

And Max loved him.


End file.
